


Alone Again (Except I’m Not)

by Pielotdameron



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pielotdameron/pseuds/Pielotdameron
Summary: Obi Wan underestimates how painful his migraines can be, until one hits him a little too hard and he accidentally calls on Anakin for help
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 382





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Poor obi wan 😭 I’m so evil

There were sirens. 

Or maybe there weren't. Obi-Wan had lost track of his surroundings hours ago, his head pounding with a tension that struck his entire body, leaving him paralysed on the 'fresher floor. At first there had been embarrassment, he was General Kenobi, key negotiator for the Jedi, he should not be collapsing from a minor headache. He was being childish, and he hoped that by pulling himself up, things would resettle. But his arms were very uncooperative, and even when he managed to right himself, pain bolted through his head like lightning in a stewjon storm. 

So he lay. 

The longer he stayed still, the deeper the cold of the tiles sank into his bones, taking him away from the clone wars, the battles and death of his men, his friends losing their faith, the force itself crumbling under the weight of so much death, and depositing him somewhere far worse. 

He watched, with wide eyes, as his master died, again and again before his eyes. He screamed, but no sound came out in the strange faded black of his own memories. He lunged to stop the sith, but he was stuck in his spot, a presence crushing him from every side. Qui-Gon's eyes dimmed again, Obi-Wan had lost track of what number this was, and he could only watch the closest thing he had to a father fall, lifeless to the ground once more. Everything felt like static, the siren sound returning to his ears. Louder, louder, louder, until he was forcibly shoving the heels of his palms into his eyes, attempting to physically shield himself from the blinding pain in his skull. 

A distant, logical part of his mind supplied _migraine_ but he had no energy left to listen to it, reaching for the force desperately, begging to be taken away from here. His grip was weak at best, and being so cut off from it was making him feel worse. Somewhere, there was mercy left for Obi-Wan, something finally pulling him from his broken memories and depositing him back into his equally bleak surroundings. Alone. The force had abandoned him, and he felt strangely numb. 

He couldn't remember calling out, but all of a sudden Anakin was there, his warm voice far too loud, echoing through their bond. The young general sounded... Concerned? Obi-Wan didn't want to bother the boy, but still cracked one eye open, hoping to see Anakin standing over him, but there was nobody there. He didn't want to bother the boy. But everything hurt. He didn't want to bother the boy. But there were tears in his eyes. He couldn't bother Anakin-

Panic clutched his heart, and he tugged hard on his end of their bond, letting go of his mental shields in favour of stopping his world from somersaulting over itself. He pushed down his pride, frail as it was, knowing he was going to spiral if he stayed like this. 

The only time his migraines had been this bad, when he had run out of tears and had spent all day in the community freshers throwing up his small breakfast, Qui-Gon had bundled him up in blankets, turned off all the lights, and told him stories, long, intricate ones about the many heroic battles he had fought and won as a jedi master. His voice was a gentle rumble in Obi-Wans ears, soothing, caring, until he could drift into a meditative state. Never quite asleep, but resting all the same, the steady thud of his masters heart beat helping to tune out any other, more offensive sounds. 

How desperately he wished for one of Qui-Gon's stories now, however full of made up bantha-shit they were, he wanted to be held by his old master, have his face tickled by faintly greying hairs as Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to his forehead. The loss felt strangely raw and new, as he clutched to the image of his master in soft blankets, relaxed, at peace while reading a book of some sort as his spare hand pet his padawan's hair, willing it to overpower the... the other memory, even if only for a short amount of time. He curled up on his side, unsure where to press his hands to block out the hurt. There was so much that hurt. His chest ached, and again, the logical voice in his head, that sounded a lot like Qui-Gon's, supplied _grief_. Anakin was saying something, probably a question. No, many questions by the sound of it, but Obi-Wan couldn't hear him over his own heart beat. He was so so tired, and he let himself slip away, hearing Anakin's panicked voice as it wrapped around his own poisonous force signature, prodding and recoiling at what it found, before he returned, his voice strong. 

_Hold on Master, I'll be right there_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin isn’t the best at remaining calm, but he tries for his ex-master, and finds that he actually does a good job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best, but Obi-Wan is probably still a little ooc  
> But hey,why can’t he be soft?

Obi-Wan’s panic gripped Anakin’s mind like a vice, echoing through his skull and temporarily blinding him before his masters flimsy shields were thrown up, a weak attempt at stopping him from being discovered. Anakin knew his master well, knew of his multitude of ways of avoiding the med bay, knew that he would sooner leap into a sarlaac pit than actually allow someone to help him. His master was strong, smart, incredibly brave. But he was also insanely self-sacrificing, so much so that more than once Commander Cody had to physically drag him away from a battle that couldn’t be won. Anakin was extremely grateful for the commanders help in making sure Obi-Wan got at least enough rest to survive, his new rank as general preventing him spending as much time taking care of his ex master as he would have liked. Thanks to the war that was currently raging around them, he had no way of knowing just how much had been hidden.

As he took the many turns in the hallway that lead to their shared quarters, he thought hard about how often Obi-Wan might have hidden injuries from everyone in the past. How many times during his apprenticeship had his master suffered silently, doing anything in his power to avoid anyone of medical standing?

He took a deep breath and released all of his confused emotions into the force. There was no use rushing in there and making everything worse for his master because he hadn’t learnt any control, he had to trust himself to work through all the feelings at a later date. Obi-Wan had always encouraged patience, he would throw a fit over how Anakin had dropped all of his duties immediately to rush to answer his call. He knocked on the door, and it slid open immediately with a hiss that encouraged him to step into the room. The lights were out, clearly his old master had been in a rush, but there was light coming from beneath the fresher door.

“Obi-Wan?” He was careful to keep his voice steady and quiet, not wanting to startle the ginger. He heard a soft whimper, and then there was a flare of embarrassment in their bond as the door slid open on its own. Anakin’s stomach flipped. His master was on the floor, curled up in a defensive position that he recognised from when the older man was having nightmares. The skin beneath his matted hair was papery and pale, making the dark bags underneath his eyes darker. His usually bright blue/silver eyes had faded to a dull grey that suggested Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely in that room, distant, glazed over, before his eyes slipped shut, too much energy needed to keep them open. Knowing the tile must be freezing even through his clunky armour, he thought through his options.

Lifting his master into his arms shouldn’t have been easy, but the man was far too light, and didn’t struggle as Anakin carried him to his room, setting him on the bed and waiting. He tried to feign patience, he really did, but his skin was crawling at the lack of recognition in the mans face and he ended up gently pushing on their bond. It was difficult not to recoil at all the agony slipping through cracking shields, but he sought further, letting his master feel him through the force. A ragged gasp was the only warning he got before he had a lap full of general. Obi-Wan was trembling, but relaxed in an unusual display of comfort associated with physical contact. Although he had questions, Anakin just held him for a while, let him be. Any attempt at seeing Obi-Wan’s force signature made the older males face scrunch in discomfort. Anakin knew then that something was really wrong. Obi-Wan’s force signature was always a bright presence, but now, it was duller than his eyes.

“Obi-Wan, hey.” He tried again, but softer than last time. Even a blind man would have noticed how he repeatedly hid his face in Anakin’s shoulder, blocking out the faint light coming from the fresher. A headache of some sort then.

“An’kin?” Obi-Wan’s voice was slurred, making his words almost unintelligible.

“I’m here master, what’s wrong?” He stroked over the mans sweaty hair, raking his hands through the strands in comforting measures that had Obi-Wan melting into his side.

“Mi’raine.” He mumbled back against his ex padawan’s neck. Ah, that explained the mans lack of movement. But as far as he was aware, he had been taking pills to help with those. Then again, since when could he be trusted to take medical seriously.

“Okay, can you keep yourself upright for a moment?” He nudged him gently, feeling guilty at the whine that tumbled through chapped lips as Obi-Wan leaned back on the wall instead of on Anakin. Moving quickly, he left the sleeping quarters, collected the small contaIner of pills from his fresher cabinet, filled a glass with water and retrieved a spare blanket from the cupboard. He had seen Qui-Gon taking care of Obi-Wan once when he was young, when the then padawan had collapsed. There had been broth, but Anakin didn’t know how to make that, instead he clicked down the kettle with the force, hovering a mug onto the table and then a teabag in there. Obi-Wan would make him run laps if he’d seen him using the force for such trivial things, and he chuckled softly to himself at the thought. He carried the things he had while the kettle boiled, setting them down on the edge of the bed. Obi-Wan had his head buried in a cushion, and Anakin felt guilty for moving him.

“Master? Can you sit up? You should take these, they’ll help you.” He offered out the pills as Obi-Wan gingerly sat up, a weak hand pressed against his temple and his shoulders shaking against the wall. For once, he didn’t argue against the pills, holding out a trembling hand for them as Anakin sat down beside him. He held the glass of water against the gingers lips as Obi-Wan drank greedily. When he was gently pushed away, he returned to the small kitchen to pour the tea, letting it brew for a few moments. He listened for any sound from the other room, but was relieved that Obi-Wan hadn’t even tried to go anywhere. When he returned to the room, the Jedi looked slightly more relaxed. There were armour plates all over the floor, but Anakin didn’t comment, just force levitated it all into a pile in the corner of the room. When he felt Obi-Wan’s weak attempt at a glare fix between his shoulders he grinned.

“What, is there a problem?” He knew Obi-Wan couldn’t retort with one of his usual lectures, so it was a little bit of a low blow, but it was worth it to see the weak smile on his masters face.

“You’re a ni’te mare.” His voice was still slurred, but some of his words were reforming properly, making him easier to understand. Once Obi-Wan was just in his blacks, he gently wrapped the blanket around him and handed him the tea, which he held close to his chest in shaking hands.

“ _Answer me honestly, how are you?”_ He felt bad for using their force bond like that, especially when Obi-Wan flinched.

“ _Not my best, but I’m sure it’ll be fine after some rest.”_ He even sounded weak in the force and Anakin frowned. Even when he was semi-unconscious in the med ward, they had always been able to communicate well through the force, but right now his force signature was faint at best. Ignoring his masters usual avoidance of physical contact, he set his flesh hand on his head, brushing his bangs away from his forehead with as much care as he could manage. To his surprise, Obi-Wan melted into the touch, his body slumping into Anakin’s. He carefully extracted the mug from his trembling hands, setting it down on the small bedside table before adjusting Obi-Wan so that his head was resting on his chest. He felt more than saw as the tension leaked from his masters body, a peaceful smile on his face.

Anakin was no Qui-Gon, but clearly he had done something right, because the older Jedi was falling asleep, arms resting around Anakin’s middle.

With a soft whisper of “Thank you Anakin” his master was finally resting properly, and there, in the privacy of the room, Anakin vowed to take better care of him.

The next morning, Anakin woke with a kink in his neck and a dead leg, but when he glanced down and saw Obi-Wan’s peaceful sleeping face, it all felt worth it. Careful not to alert Obi-Wan, he sent a force message to his padawan, asking her to bring all their holopads here. He knew Obi-Wan would never take a proper day off, but maybe if Anakin proposed a compromise, he could keep an eye on him.

“Can hear you th’nking from here.” Obi-Wan’s jaw-cracking yawn startled Anakin out of his thoughts, and he blinked at the sleep-ruffled man slowly. He did look far better, but there was still an absence of light in his eyes, and his force signature was flickering, struggling to manifest.

“We’re going to work here today.” He raised his hand to cut off his already forming arguments, and continued where he left off. “Obi-Wan, you’re practically disconnected from the force, you can’t be out there today. Besides, you don’t want the medics finding you, do you?” He knew that had worked when the older man shivered, and set a reassuring hand in his hair.

“Ahsoka is on her way with our holos, why don’t you freshen up? But I mean it, if you over exert yourself, I’ll know.” He helped the man stand, keeping an arm around his waist. By the time they got there, Obi-Wan was shaking, and sat down heavily on the closed toilet. He felt as the Jedi attempted to release the dizziness into the force, but he also felt when the force didn’t respond. He frowned, sending comforting waves of force energy his way, relieved when it seemed to settle his master. They didn’t turn the lights on, but Anakin set his lightsaber down across the room, bathing it in a soft blue glow.

“Anakin can you-“ Obi-Wan bit his lip, and Anakin felt a wave of embarrassment in the force.

“ _Can you help me?”_ Even though he’d spoken in Anakin’s mind, it didn’t make it any less obvious that Obi-Wan hated the fact he had to ask. He sent reassurance through their bond. He contacted Ahsoka again, telling her to wait in the main quarters if they weren’t there. Her bubbly signature soothed his swirling mind, and he smiled to himself.

“Of course, master. I’ll keep my blacks on.” He felt the relief as if it were a palpable thing in the air. He carefully took off his armour pieces, levitating them back into the pile in the other room. He stepped under the spray, where Obi-Wan was curled in a self conscious attempt at hiding himself. Anakin gently tugged at his shoulders, turning him around and swiping soap over his torso in feather light touches. Slowly, once he realised Anakin didn’t seem to care, Obi-Wan relaxed with a sigh, letting his head rest on his shoulder as Anakin rubbed the soap into his hair, movements steady. He was just relieved to see his master recovering. It had hurt, seeing the usually strong man so collapsed in on himself.

“ _Master, I brought some broth that Commander Cody made, where should I put it?”_ Ahsoka’s voice was bright in his mind and he chuckled at his padawan.

“ _Just set it on the table, we’ll be out in a moment.”_ He could tell she was grinning, but for right now, he didn’t care what people thought, he was more focused on carefully washing the soap out of Obi-Wan’s hair, cupping a hand over his eyes to block out the watery bubbles. He gave his own hair a quick scrub while he was there, and then carefully turned of the shower, pulling a towel towards them and handing it to Obi-Wan. They must have looked a state, but once they were dressed, Anakin felt better about letting Obi-Wan work. The General had slipped into his sleep clothes, and Anakin hoped he would stay that way. The shirt was clearly an old one of Qui-Gon’s, and although he didn’t comment aloud, it made Obi-Wan look softer around the edges. Clearly the shirt acted as a comfort object, because the blue was steadily returning to his force signature. Although their hair was clearly still wet, Ahsoka thankfully didn’t say anything. In fact, he was very impressed when she immediately pushed Obi-Wan down on the couch and shoved a bowl of broth into his lap.

“With all due respect Master Kenobi, if you don’t eat that broth I won’t hesitate to force it down your throat.” Anakin tried to maintain a straight face, he really did, but he found himself doubled over laughing at the pure shock on his masters face at Ahsoka’s words. They all settled onto the couch, Ahsoka tucking herself close to her Grandmasters side, resting her head on his shoulder. He saw Obi-Wan slowly relax into it and smiled.

This was his family, and they would always look out for their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?


End file.
